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Breaking All Their Rules
Sue MacKay
A rule worth breaking?Plastic surgeon Olivia Coates-Clark knew her affair with handsome Dr Zachary Wright couldn’t last for ever, so she ended it before she could get hurt. But when a chance encounter brings them back together she finds herself considering breaking her one rule: not to give in to her reignited desire for Zac!Zac watched Olivia walk away once, but he won’t let it happen again. Alone with her in paradise, he’ll prove once and for all that some rules are worth breaking…



Praise for Sue MacKay (#ulink_02d68845-d195-5a16-80de-e95d4a9b4f11)
‘A deeply emotional, heart-rending story that will make you smile and make you cry. I truly recommend it—and don’t miss the second book: the story about Max.’
—HarlequinJunkie on The Gift of a Child
‘What a great book. I loved it. I did not want it to end. This is one book not to miss.’
—Goodreads on The Gift of a Child
Zac knew she never turned down a dare.
But she’d have to. Tonight’s success rested on her being one hundred and ten per cent on her game. Her mother had taught her well—go easy on the alcohol or make a fool of herself. Not going to happen tonight, when everyone’s eyes would be on her.
Zac’s throat worked as he tasted the champagne. Appreciation lit up his eyes. His tongue licked his bottom lip.
And Olivia melted: deep inside where she’d stored all her Zac memories there was a pool of hot, simmering need. The glass clinked against her teeth as the divine liquid spilled across her tongue. And while her shoulders lightened, tension of a different kind wound into a ball in her tummy and down to her core.
‘Delicious,’ she whispered.
Zac or the wine?

Dear Reader (#ulink_ac8a294f-e40b-5b1a-ab3e-5ac4bbdc4523),
Fiji is one of the world’s treasures, with lots of beautiful islands where resorts sit beneath the palms, surrounded by the bluest of seas where the most colourful fish live. Kayaking around the islands is an adventure like none I’ve experienced elsewhere.
When I was thinking about this story the idea of sending Olivia and Zac there while they got to know each other just popped into my head—and so here they are. These two have had a strong physical relationship in the past, but this time they need to get to know each other far better—and where better than on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean?
Zac and Olivia both need to learn to trust their instincts and follow their hearts. Of course it’s not easy, but the end result will be worth it. I love giving my characters their happy-ever-after. I hope you enjoy this one.
I’d love to hear from you on sue.mackay56@yahoo.com, or drop by suemackay.co.nz (http://suemackay.co.nz).
All the best,
Sue
SUE MACKAY lives with her husband in New Zealand’s beautiful Marlborough Sounds, with the water at her doorstep and the birds and the trees at her back door. It is the perfect setting to indulge her passions of entertaining friends by cooking them sumptuous meals, drinking fabulous wine, going for hill walks or kayaking around the bay—and, of course, writing stories.

Breaking All Their Rules
Sue MacKay


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Lyn, I am going to miss your laugh and those good times we yakked in your sewing room. Thank you for dragging me out to find my other passions that I’d forgotten all about until I met you. You read every book and this one is definitely for you.

Table of Contents
Cover (#u031e2b18-5eb1-5976-96f1-df9a88f9e7da)
Praise for Sue MacKay (#ulink_eef6966e-7117-51c7-a0d2-26b7882673a3)
Excerpt (#uc31e6871-6896-5f17-afb0-08ebb56bdd86)
Dear Reader (#ulink_9c7b6cc9-08b8-5f34-94e4-8e0d16dec68a)
About the Author (#u7cb784fe-c131-5461-af8f-f106f073ad02)
Title Page (#ud634246a-620d-533a-bfa8-a8aaf0235545)
Dedication (#u3fac9ce5-0346-562d-87b7-3442badb6d02)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_809efa87-8b54-56a6-a2b3-e46c04bc8d74)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_21956861-f1dc-5261-94ac-4e661c11a1fd)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_0d313371-ef8f-5134-aad0-8e65d6cb5a23)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_ea658d5b-3ce6-5354-bb26-62efb292b122)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_ff427526-eae8-5769-8367-cff639ca24de)
OLIVIA COATES-CLARK STRAIGHTENED up and indicated to a nurse to wipe her forehead in an attempt to get rid of an annoying tickle that had been irritating her for some minutes. ‘Is it me, or is Theatre hotter than usual this morning?’
‘I haven’t noticed,’ Kay, the anaesthetist, answered as she kept an eye on the monitors in front of her. ‘Sure you’re not stressing about tonight, Olivia?’
‘Me? Stress?’ Olivia grimaced behind her mask. She was a control freak; of course she stressed. ‘Okay, let’s get this second implant inserted so we can bring our girl round.’
‘So everything’s good to go for the gala fundraiser?’ Kay persisted.
‘Fingers crossed,’ Olivia muttered, refusing to think about what could go wrong. Her list of requirements and tasks was complete, neat little ticks beside every job and supplier and by the name of every attendee, including the seeing eye dog coming.
‘I bumped into Zac yesterday. He’s looking forward to catching up with everyone.’ Kay’s forced nonchalance didn’t fool her.
‘I’m sure everyone feels the same.’ The anaesthetist had hit on the reason for Olivia feeling unnaturally hot. Zachary Wright. Just knowing he’d be at the function she’d spent weeks organising made her toes curl with unwanted anticipation. Not to mention the alien nervousness. ‘Zac,’ she sighed into her mask. The one man she’d never been able to delete from her mind. And, boy, had she tried.
‘You need more mopping?’ the nurse asked.
‘No, thanks.’ That particular irritation had gone, and she’d ignore the other—Zac—by concentrating on supervising the plastic surgery registrar opposite her as he placed the tissue expander beneath the pocket under Anna Seddon’s pectoralis major muscle on the left side of her chest wall.
The registrar had supported Olivia as she’d done the first insertion of an expander on the right side, watching every move she made, listening to every word she said, as though his life depended on it. Which it did. One mistake and she’d be on him like a ton of bricks. So far he was doing an excellent job of the second breast implant. ‘Remember to make sure this one’s placed exactly the same as the first one. No woman is going to thank you for lopsided breasts.’ This might only be the first stage in a series of surgeries to reconstruct Anna’s breasts but it had to be done well. There was no other way.
The guy didn’t look up as he said, ‘I get it. This is as much about appearances and confidence as preventing cancer.’
‘Making a person feel better about themselves is our job description.’ Her career had evolved along a path of repairing people who’d had misadventures or deforming surgeries. But she didn’t knock those specialists working to make people happier in less traumatic circumstances. Everyone was entitled to feel good about themselves, for whatever reasons; to hide behind a perfect facade if they needed to.
For Olivia, looking her absolute best was imperative: a confident shield that hid the messy, messed-up teenager from the critical world waiting to pounce. Making the most of her appearance hadn’t been about attracting males and friends since she was twelve and the night her father had left home for the last time, taking his clothes and car, and her heart. Leaving her to deal with her mother’s problems alone.
Kay glanced down at the table. ‘This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a perfectly healthy woman deliberately have her breasts removed, but I still can’t get my head round it. I don’t know if I’d have the guts to have the procedure done if I didn’t already have cancer.’
Olivia understood all too well, but … ‘If you’d lost your grandmother and one sister to the disease, and your mother had had breast cancer you might think differently.’ Bad luck came in all forms.
‘I’d do whatever it took to be around to watch my kids grow up,’ one of the nurses said.
‘You’re right, and so would I.’ Kay shivered. ‘Still, it’s a huge decision. You’d want your man on side, for sure.’
‘Anna’s husband’s been brilliant. I’d go so far as to call him a hero. He’s backing her all the way.’ A hero? If she wasn’t in Theatre she’d have to ask herself what she was on. Heroes were found in romance stories, not real life—not often anyhow, and not in her real life. Not that she’d ever let one in if one was on offer.
As Olivia swabbed the incision a clear picture of Zac spilled into her mind, sent a tremor down her arm, had her imagining his scent. Oh, get over yourself. Zac wasn’t her hero. Wasn’t her anything. Hadn’t been since she’d walked away from their affair eighteen months ago. But—she sighed again—what would’ve happened if she’d found the courage to push the affair beyond the sex and into a relationship where they talked and shared and had been there for each other? Eventually Zac would’ve left her. At least by getting in first she’d saved herself from being hurt. Tonight she’d see quite a bit of him, which didn’t sit easily with her. The day his registration for the gala had arrived in her inbox she’d rung him for a donation for the fundraising auction. Since then she hadn’t been able to erase him from her mind. Come on. He’s always been lurking in the back of your head, reminding you how good you were together.
‘So there are good guys out there.’ Kay’s tone was acerbic.
Zac might be one of the good guys. She hadn’t hung round long enough to find out. She’d got too intense about him too quickly and pulling the plug on their fling had been all about staying in control and not setting herself up to be abandoned. Going through that at twelve had been bad enough; to happen again when she was an adult would be ridiculous. So she’d run. Cowardly for sure, but the only way to look out for herself. And now she had an op to finish and a gala to start. ‘Let’s get this tidied up and the saline started.’ She had places to be and hopefully not many things to do.
An hour later she was beginning to wish she’d stayed in Theatre for the rest of the day. The number of texts on her phone gave the first warning that not everything was going to plan at the hotel where the gala evening would be held; that her list was in serious disarray.
As she ran for her car, the deluge that all but drowned her and destroyed her carefully styled hair, which she’d spent the evening before having coloured and tidied, was the second warning. At least her thick woollen coat had saved her silk blouse from ruin. But rain had not been on her schedule, which put her further out of sorts. Everything about tonight had to be perfect.
Slamming the car door, she glared out at the black sky through the wet windscreen. ‘Get a move on. I want you gone before my show starts tonight.’
The third suggestion that things were turning belly up was immediate and infuriating. One turn of the ignition key and the flat clicking sound told a story of its own. The battery was kaput. Because? Olivia slapped the dashboard with her palm. The lights had been left on. There was no one to blame except herself.
Olivia knew the exact moment Zac walked through the entrance of the plush hotel, and it had nothing to do with the sudden change in noise as the doors opened, letting in sounds of rain and car horns. She might’ve been facing the receptionist but she knew. Her skin prickled, her belly tightened, and the air around her snapped. Worse, she forgot whatever it was she’d been talking about to the young woman on the other side of the polished oak counter.
So nothing had changed. He still rattled her chain, made her feel hot and sexy and out of control—and he hadn’t even said a word to her. Probably hadn’t recognised her back view.
‘Hello, Olivia. It’s been a while.’
That particular husky, sexy voice belonged to only one man. ‘Since what, Zac?’ she asked, as she lifted her head and turned to face him, fighting the adrenaline rush threatening to turn her into a blithering wreck. This was why she’d left him. Zac undermined her self-control. How had she found the strength to walk away? Not that there’d been anything more to their relationship than sex. Nothing that should be making her blood fizz and her heart dance a tango just because he stood a few feet from her. No way did she want to jump his bones within seconds of seeing him. She shouldn’t want to at all. But no denying it—she did. Urgently.
Black-coffee-coloured eyes bored into her, jolting her deep inside. ‘Since we last spent the night together, enjoying each other’s company.’
‘Go for the jugular, why don’t you?’ she gasped, knowing how wrong it was to even wish he’d give her a hug and say he’d missed her.
Zac instantly looked contrite. ‘Sorry, Olivia. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘You didn’t,’ she lied. Behind her physical reaction her heart was sitting up, like it had something to say. Like what? Not going there. ‘The bedroom scene was the grounds of our relationship.’ That last night she’d got up at three in the morning, said she couldn’t do it any more, and had walked out without explaining why. To tell him her fears would’ve meant exposing herself, and that was something she never did.
‘So? How’s things? Keeping busy?’ Inane, safe, and so not what she really wanted to ask. Got a new woman in your life? Do you ever miss me? Even a teeny, weeny bit? Or are you grateful I pulled the plug when I did? Right now all her muscles felt like they were reaching for him, wanting him touching them, rubbing them, turning her on even more. Had she done the right thing in leaving? Of course she had. Rule number one: stay in control. She’d been losing it back then. Fast.
Zac had the audacity to laugh. ‘What? You haven’t kept tabs on me?’ His grin was lazy, and wide, and cut into her with the sexiness of it. There was no animosity there whatsoever, just a deliberate, self-mocking gleam in his beautiful eyes. He was as good as her at hiding emotions.
Shaking her head at him, Olivia leaned back, her hands pressed against the counter at her sides, the designer-jeans-clad legs Zac had sworn were the best he’d ever had anything to do with posed so that one was in front of the other and bent slightly at the knee, tightening the already tight, annoyingly damp denim over her not-so-well-toned thigh. ‘My turn to apologise. I haven’t kept up with any gossip.’
‘Dull as dishwater, that’s my life.’ Unfortunately that twinkle she’d always melted for was very apparent, belying his statement.
‘Right.’ She rolled her eyes at him, unable to imagine Zac not being involved in and with people, especially feminine, good-looking, sexy people. Was she jealous? Couldn’t be. She’d done the dumping, not him. But Zac with another woman? Pain lodged in the region of her heart.
‘Never could fool you.’ It was inordinately satisfying to see his gaze drop to the line on the front of her thigh where the mulberry three-quarter-length coat cut across her jeans. Even more gratifying when his tongue lapped that grin, which rapidly started fading. And downright exciting to see Zachary blink not once but twice.
She didn’t need exciting in her life right now, and Zac and exciting were one and the same. ‘I keep to myself a lot these days too,’ she muttered, not really sure what she was talking about any more with the distracting package standing right in front of her.
‘Now I’m shocked.’ The grin was back in place, lion-like in its power to knock her off her feet and set her quaking.
‘Why? It’s not as though I’ve ever been a social butterfly.’
‘There’s never been anything butterfly-like about you, Olivia.’
Confidence oozed from Zac that didn’t bode well for the coming evening when they’d be in the same crowd, the same venue. At the same table. Of all the things she’d organised she should’ve been able to arrange that he sat on the opposite side of the room. It had proved impossible as they were the only two people attending the gala who were on their own. All the others were in pairs.
‘You’re saying I’m not a flapper?’ They were toying with each other. Reality slammed into her, made her gasp aloud. They’d teased each other mercilessly the first night they’d gone to bed together, and had never stopped. Well, she was stopping now. Time to put distance between them. She needed to get on with what she was supposed to be doing. ‘I’ve got a lot to do so I’ll see you later. I hope you have a great evening.’
Disappointment flicked through his eyes, quickly followed by something much like hurt but couldn’t be. Not hurt. She hadn’t done anything more than push him aside, though that’d probably spiked his pride. He had a reputation of loving and leaving.
It had taken the death of a small child in Theatre to throw them into each other’s arms for the first time. Desperate to obliterate the anguished parents from her mind, Olivia had found temporary comfort with Zac. She’d also found sex like she’d never known before. How they’d spent years rubbing shoulders at med school and not felt anything for each other until that day was one of life’s mysteries. From then on all it took had been one look and they’d be tearing each other’s clothes off, falling into bed, onto the couch, over the table. They’d done little talking and a lot of action.
Tonight, if they were stuck together for any length of time, she’d talk and keep her hands to herself. That had been the plan, but so far it wasn’t working out. Not that she’d touched Zac yet. Yet? With her mouth watering and her fingers twitching, it would take very little to change that. She had to get serious and focus on what had to be done. ‘I’ll leave you to check in.’ Her voice was pitched high—definitely no control going on there.
‘I’m not checking in.’
She should’ve remembered that. She knew all the names of the people who’d elected to stay the night here instead of driving home afterwards. ‘Do you live nearby?’
‘Over the road.’
‘In that amazing apartment building designed to look like a cruise ship, overlooking the super yachts and high-end restaurants?’ Oh, wow. He had done all right for himself. Of course, he came from a moneyed background, but she recalled him saying he’d paid his own way through med school. She had never told him she also came from money or that her mother had used it to bribe her to keep her onside until she was old enough to work out that hiding bottles of alcohol from her father wasn’t a joke at all.
‘Are you staying here?’ he asked casually, making her wonder if he might have plans to pay her a visit if she was.
‘Yes.’ The house she’d bought last summer was less than twenty minutes away in upmarket Parnell. ‘I’m going to be busy here right up to kick-off, and going home to get ready for the evening would use up time I might not have if things go wrong.’ Which plenty had done already. She looked over at the receptionist, suddenly remembering she’d been in the middle of another conversation before Zac had walked up. ‘Can you let me know when Dr Brookes and his family check in, please?’
The girl nodded. ‘Certainly, Dr Coates-Clark.’
‘I’ll be in the banquet room,’ Olivia told the girl needlessly. The hotel staff had her cell number, but right now she wasn’t doing so well on remembering anything she should. Better get a grip before the evening got under way.
Zac shrugged those impressive shoulders that she’d kissed many times. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’
‘Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I’m getting everything sorted.’ As much as having someone to help her would be a benefit, Zac would probably get her into a bigger pickle just by being in the same room. Turning on her heel, Olivia headed to the elevator that’d take her up to the room where tonight’s dinner, auction, and dance would be held. The evening was due to get under way in a little over three hours and she wanted to check that everything was in place and see if the flowers had finally arrived. Something about bad weather causing a shortage of flowers at the markets that morning had been the harried florist’s excuse. But bad weather didn’t explain why the place name cards were yet to arrive from the copy centre.
Unbelievable how she’d softened on the inside when she’d first looked at Zac, despite the heat and turmoil he instantly ramped up within her. Like she’d missed him. But she hadn’t known Zac beyond work and bed so not a lot to miss apart from that mind-blowing sex. Odd she felt there was more to him she wanted to learn about when she hadn’t been interested before. Not interested? Of course she had been. That’s what had frightened her into ending the affair.
A large palm pressed the button to summon the elevator. ‘It’s out there on the surgeons’ loop that you need some help with running the auction tonight. I’m stepping up. Starting now.’ Zac looked down his long straight nose at her, his mouth firm, his gaze determined. ‘No argument.’
Why would he want to do that? It meant being in her company for hours. She’d have sworn he would’ve planned on keeping well away from her, and that the last five minutes had been five too many in her company. ‘Thanks, but no thanks, Zac. I’ve got it covered.’ Second lie in minutes. She doubted she could spend too much time with him without dredging up all the reasons why she’d been a fool to drop him—instead of remembering why it had been a very sane move. No one was going to walk away from her ever again.
She made the mistake of looking at Zac and her tongue instantly felt too big for her mouth. Zac was so good looking, his face a work of art, designed to send any female who came near him into a lather. Including her. Olivia closed her eyes briefly, but his face followed her, seared on the insides of her eyelids. Zachary Wright. If ever there was a man she might fall for, it was Zac. That was a big ‘if’. Painful lessons growing up were a harsh reminder that there was only one person who’d look out for her—herself.
But one touch and Zac had always been able to do anything he liked with her. Not that he’d taken advantage in a bad way. He wasn’t that kind of man. See? She did know something about him. Hopefully he hadn’t known how close she’d come to being totally his, as in willing to do absolutely anything to keep him.
‘You all right?’ He touched her upper arm, and despite her layers of clothing the heat she associated with him shot through her, consumed her.
‘F-fine,’ was all Olivia could manage as she stared at him, pushing down hard on the urge to touch him back, to run her hand over his cheek, and to feel that stubble beginning to darken his chin.
Taking her elbow, Zac propelled her forward, into the elevator. ‘Third floor?’
‘Yes,’ she croaked. Go away, leave me alone, take your sexy body and those eyes that were always my undoing, and take a flying leap off a tall building. I don’t need this heat and need crawling along my veins. Go away.
‘I’m not going anywhere for the rest of the day, so get used to the idea, Olivia.’
Ouch. Had she said that out loud? What else had she put out there? One glance at him and she relaxed. He hadn’t heard anything about jumping off a building. But she couldn’t relax fully until tonight was put to bed.
Olivia groaned. ‘Bed’ was so not a safe word when she was around this man. It brought all sorts of images screaming into her head. Images she refused to see or acknowledge. They were her past, not her future. Or her present.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_a669276d-e12a-5aaa-b5c0-83883bed904e)
WHO’S TAKEN ALL the air out of this box? Zac stared around the elevator car, looking for a culprit. His eyes latched onto Olivia. He had his answer. It was her fault he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t keep his heart beating in a normal, steady rhythm. Olivia Coates-Clark. CC for short. CC was short. Delicate looking—not delicate of mind. Tiny, yet big on personality. Filled out in all the right places—as he well knew. Fiery when pushed too far, sweet when everything was going her way. An itch.
An itch he would never scratch again. He absolutely had to ignore it.
She’d dumped him. Hard and fast. Slapped at his pride. He did the leaving, when he was good and ready, not the other way round. He should’ve been grateful, was grateful. Having more than his usual three or four dates with Olivia had got him starting to look out for her. On the rare unguarded moments when something like deep pain had crept into her gaze he’d wanted to protect her; and that was plain dumb. Given his past, that made him a danger to her. He hurt people; did not protect them. He also didn’t feel like having his heart cut and cauterised again when she learned of his inadequacies. No, thanks.
Hang on. Had she found out? Was that why Olivia had pulled the plug on their affair? Because she’d found him to be flawed? No. She still looked at him as she always had—hot and hungry, not disgusted or aloof.
Breathing was impossible. Not only was Olivia using up the oxygen, she was filling the resulting vacuum with the scent of flowers and fruit and everything he remembered about her. Hell, let me out of this thing. Fast. He took a step towards the doors, stopped, glanced at the control panel. They were moving between floors. Get a hold of yourself.
Yeah, sure. This is what Olivia always did to him. Tipped him upside down with a look, sent his brain to the dump with a finger touch, and cranked up his libido so fast and high just by being in the same air as him. Exactly what was happening now. His crotch was tight, achingly tight. As was his gut. Nothing new there. Eighteen months without setting eyes on her, with only once talking on the phone about the auction, and he was back to square one. Back to lusting after her. Unbelievable. How could a grown man with a successful career as an orthopaedic surgeon, presumably an intelligent and sane man dedicated to remaining uninvolved with women, lose all control because of this one?
Olivia Coates-Clark. She was why he felt three sheets to the wind—and he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all week. He’d been too busy with scheduled surgeries and two emergencies involving major operations to have any time to enjoy a drink and take in the ever-changing view from his apartment living room. But within minutes of being with CC he felt as though he’d downed a whole bottle of whiskey. This was shaping up to be a big night in a way he didn’t need.
A phone buzzed discreetly. As nothing vibrated on his hip it had to be Olivia’s. He listened with interest as she answered, totally unabashed about eavesdropping.
‘Olivia Coates-Clark speaking.’ Her gaze scanned the ceiling as she listened to her caller. Then, ‘Thank you so much. Your efforts are really appreciated.’ Her finger flicked across the screen and the phone was shoved back into her pocket. ‘One problem sorted.’ She smiled directly at him.
‘Had a few?’ he asked, trying to ignore the jolt of need banging into his groin as his gaze locked on those lush lips.
‘I guess it would be too much to expect arranging something as big as this has become to go off without some hitches. It hasn’t been too bad, though.’ Had she just crossed her fingers?
‘Whose idea was it to raise money for Andy Brookes? Yours?’
Olivia nodded, and her copper-blonde hair brushed her cheek, adding further to his physical discomfort. ‘I’ll put my hand up, but from the moment I started talking to surgeons at Auckland Surgical Hospital it went viral. Everyone wants to be a part of supporting Andy. I imagine tonight’s going to raise a fair whack of dosh. People have been unbelievably generous with offering art, holidays, and other amazing things to auction.’ She smiled again, her mouth curving softly, reminding him of how he used to like lying beside her in his bed, watching her as she dozed after sex. All sweet and cute, and vastly different from the tigress who could sex him into oblivion. ‘Thank you for your generous gift,’ she was saying.
He’d put in a weekend for a family of four on his luxury yacht, with all the bells and whistles, and he’d be at the helm. ‘Andy was the most popular guy in our senior registrar years. He never failed to help someone out when they were down.’
‘You forget the practical jokes.’ Again she smiled, making those full lips impossible to ignore.
So he didn’t; studied them instead. Covered in a deep pink sheen, he could almost feel them on his skin as she kissed his neck just below his ear, or touched his chest, his belly, his … He groaned inwardly and leaned away from her, concentrating on having a polite conversation with his ex-lover. ‘I have vivid memories of some of the things Andy did to various people.’ He sighed as he tried to ease his need. Memories. There were far too many of Olivia stacked up in his mind. He should’ve heeded them and replied no to the invitation to join his colleagues tonight. He could’ve said he was doing the laundry or cleaning his car. But he’d wanted—make that needed—to get her out of his system once and for all, and had thought joining her tonight would be the ticket. Now he’d like nothing more than the gala to be over so he could head across the road to his quiet, cold apartment and forget Olivia.
‘Have you met Andy’s wife?’
‘Kitty was at a conference with Andy that we attended in Christchurch last year.’ The conference you were supposed to speak at and cancelled the day after you walked out of my life.
Olivia must’ve recalled that too because a shadow fell over those big eyes, darkening the hyacinth blue shade to the colour of ashes. Why did he always think of flowers when he was around her?
‘I had an emergency. At home.’ She spoke softly, warily.
‘You lived on your own.’ She didn’t have kids. Not that he knew of. Hell, he didn’t even know if she had siblings.
‘My mother was unwell.’ She straightened her already straight spine and said, ‘Andy was going places back then. Hard to believe he’s now facing the fight of his life to remain alive, instead of continuing his work with paraplegics.’
What had been the problem with her mother? If he asked he doubted she’d tell him, and if she did then he’d know things about her that would make him feel connected with her. The last thing he wanted. Feeling responsible for her was not on his agenda. So, ‘Andy’s got a chance if he has the radical treatment they’re offering him in California.’
‘It must be hard for Kitty too.’
‘Unimaginable.’ Zac took a step closer to CC, ready to hug away that sadness glittering out at him. Sadness for their friend? Or her mother? Something had disturbed her cool facade.
Zac understood confronting situations that threatened to destroy a person. He’d been eighteen when the accident had happened that had left his brother, Mark, a paraplegic. Two years older than Mark, he was supposed to have been the sensible one. Try being sensible with an out-of-control, aggressive younger brother intent on riling him beyond reason. Nearly twenty years later the guilt could still swamp Zac, despite Mark having got on with his life, albeit a different one from what he’d intended before the accident.
The guilt was crippling. Being ostracised by his family because he’d been driving the car when it had slammed over the wall into the sea was as gutting. That’s what put the shields over his heart. If his parents couldn’t love him, who could? If he wasn’t to be trusted to be responsible then he had no right to think any woman would be safe with him. Or any children he might have. So he had to keep from letting anyone near enough to undermine his determination to remain single, even when it went against all he believed in.
Olivia shuffled sideways, putting space between them. ‘Here’s hoping we raise a fortune tonight.’
Zac swallowed his disappointment, tried to find it in himself to be grateful Olivia had the sense to keep their relationship on an impersonal footing. It didn’t come easily. He’d prefer to hug her, which wouldn’t have helped either of them get past this tension that had gripped them from the instant he’d sauntered into the hotel. He wanted her, and suspected—no, he knew—she wanted him just as much. The one thing they’d been very good at had been reading each other’s sexual needs. There hadn’t been much else. Shallow maybe, but that’s how they’d liked it. Their lives had been busy enough with work and study. Their careers had been taking off, leaving little time for much else.
But right now hugging Olivia would be wonderful. Why? He had no idea, but being this close to her he felt alive in a way he hadn’t for months. Eighteen months, to be exact. This feeling wasn’t about sex—though no denying he’d struggle to refuse if it was offered—but more about friendship and closeness. No, not closeness. That would be dangerous. He hauled the armour back in place over his heart. One evening and the itch would be gone.
The elevator doors slid open quietly. Zac straightened from leaning against the wall, held his hand out to indicate to Olivia go first. ‘After you.’
Following her, his gaze was firmly set on the backs of those wonderful legs and the sexy knee-length black boots highlighting them to perfection. Was it wrong to long for what they used to have? Probably not, but needing the closeness with her? That was different from anything he’d experienced, made him vulnerable. Earlier, seeing Olivia standing in Reception, looking like she had everything in hand, he’d felt the biggest lurch of his heart since the day his world had imploded as that car had sunk into the sea and his brother had screamed at him, ‘I hate you.’
‘Zac.’ Olivia stopped, waited for him to come alongside her.
That slim neck he remembered so well was exposed where her coat fell open at her shoulders. ‘CC.’ If he used the nickname he might stop wanting something he couldn’t have. This woman had already shown she could toss him aside as and when it suited her.
He watched as the tightness at the corners of her mouth softened into another heart-wrenching smile. ‘Funny, I haven’t been called CC for a while. I used to like having a nickname. More than anything else it made me feel I belonged to our group.’
‘You never felt you belonged? Olivia, without you we wouldn’t have had so many social excursions or parties. You held our year together.’ She’d worked hard at organising fun times for them, sometimes taking hours away from her studies and having to make up for it with all-night sessions at her desk. But to feel she hadn’t been an integral part of the group? How had he missed that?
Her smile turned wry. ‘I’ve always taken charge. That way I’m not left out, and I get to call the shots. No one’s going to ignore the leader, are they?’
His heart lurched again, this time for the little girl blinking out from those eyes staring at some spot behind him. He certainly didn’t know this Olivia. ‘I guess you’re right.’ With his family he’d learned what it felt like to be on the outside, looking in, but at university he’d made sure no one had seen that guy by working hard at friendships. A lot like Olivia apparently. Everyone at med school had adored her. She could be extroverted and fun, crazy at times, but never out of control. It was like she’d walked a tightrope between letting go completely and keeping a dampener on her feelings.
Except in bed—with him.
Damn, he’d like nothing more than to take Olivia to bed again. But it wouldn’t happen. Too many consequences for both of them. The vulnerability in Olivia’s eyes, her face, told him he could hurt her badly without even trying. That blew him apart. He wanted to protect her, not unravel her. He cared about her.
Trying to get away from Zac and her monumental error, Olivia rushed through the magnificent double doors opening into the banquet room now decorated in blue and white ribbons, table linen, chair covers. Since when did she go about telling people about her insecurities? Not even Zac—especially not Zac—had heard the faintest hint of how she didn’t trust people not to trash her. She did things like this fundraiser so that people thought the best of her. That was the underlying reason she could not fail, would not have tonight be less than perfect. The same reason everything she did was done to her absolute best and then some. She must not be found lacking. Or stupid. Or needy.
Coming to a sudden halt, Olivia stared around the function room, which had been made enormous by sliding back a temporary wall. The sky-blue shade of Andy’s favourite Auckland rugby team dominated. In the corner countless buckets of blue and white irises had finally been delivered and were waiting for the florist to arrange them in the clear glass bowls that were to go in the centre of each table. Everything was coming together as she’d planned it.
She was aware of Zac even before he said, ‘Looking fantastic.’
Zac. Those few minutes in the elevator had been torture. Her nostrils had taken in his spicy aftershave, while her body had leaned towards his without any input from her brain. When he’d looked like he’d been about to hug her she’d at least had the good sense to move away, even when internally she’d been crying out to have those strong arms wound around her. Now she stamped a big smile on her face and acknowledged, ‘It is.’ Too bad if the smile didn’t reach her eyes; hopefully Zac wouldn’t notice.
‘You’re not happy about something.’ He locked that formidable gaze onto her. ‘Give.’
Once again she’d got it wrong when it came to second-guessing him. ‘The florist’s running late, the wineglasses haven’t been set out, the band assured me they’d be set up by four and …’ she glanced at her watch ‘… it’s now three twenty-five.’ And you’re distracting me badly. I want you. In my bed. Making out like we used to. Actually, I’d settle for that hug.
‘We can do this. Tell me what you want done first.’ His eyes lightened with amusement, as if he’d read her mind.
He probably had. How well did she know him? Really? They hadn’t been big on swapping notes on family or growing up or the things they were passionate about. Only the bedroom stuff. Shoving her phone at him, she said, ‘Try the band. Their number’s in there. Eziboys.’
‘You’ve got the Eziboys coming to this shindig?’ Admiration gleamed out at her. ‘What did you have to do? Bribe them with free plastic surgery for the rest of their lives?’
With a light punch to his bicep she allowed, ‘One of them went to school with Andy’s younger brother. They want to help the family.’
‘Not your formidable charm, then?’ He grinned a full-blown Zachary Wright grin, one that was famous for dropping women to their knees in a begging position.
Click, click. Her knees locked and she stayed upright. Just. ‘Phone them, please.’ Begging didn’t count if she remained standing. Anyway, she wanted the band at the moment, not sex with this hunk in front of her looking like he’d stepped off the cover of a surfing magazine. Another lie.
Zac was already scrolling through her contact list. ‘Got a dance card? I want the first one with you. And the second, third, and fourth. Oh, I know, I’ll put those in your diary for tonight.’
Dance card, my butt. How out of date could he get? ‘You’ll be inundated with offers.’ Did he really want to dance with her? She’d never survive. What little control she might exercise on her need would sink without trace if he so much as held her in his arms, let alone danced with her. Anyway, he wasn’t making sense. He’d been peed off when she dumped him, so he wouldn’t want to get close to her on the dance floor. Or did he have other plans? Plans that involved payback? Tease and tempt her, then say bye-bye?
As Zac put the phone to his ear he shook his head. ‘If you didn’t want dancing tonight you should’ve gone to the retirement village to find a group of old guys with their tin whistles to play for us.’
‘I enjoy dancing.’ Just don’t intend doing it with you.
‘I didn’t know that. Looking forward to it. Looks like your florist has arrived.’ He nodded in the direction of the doors, then went back to the phone. ‘Jake, is that you, man? How’re you doing?’
Olivia stared at Zac. He knew Jake Hamblin, the band’s lead guitarist? That could be good for getting the band to actually turn up. Zac was full of surprises. Hadn’t he said something about the florist too? Spinning around, she came face-to-face with a neat and tidy woman dressed in black tailored trousers and an angora jersey under her jacket. Nothing flower-like about her. ‘You’re the florist? I’m Olivia Coates-Clark.’
The woman nodded, sent Zac a grin. ‘That’s me. I see the flowers finally turned up. Show me exactly where you want these arrangements and I’ll get on with it.’
Zac was handing the phone back to Olivia. ‘How’s things, Mrs Flower?’ That really was her name. ‘Your hip still working fine?’
‘You were the surgeon. What do you think?’
Zac’s laughter was loud and deep, and sent pangs of want kicking up a storm in Olivia’s stomach. ‘Good answer,’ he said.
So he knew this woman too. Probably used her for sending beautiful flowers to all his women. Ouch. He’d sent her flowers when she’d dumped him. A stunning, colourful bouquet of peonies, not thorns or black roses, as well he might’ve.
‘Do we have a band?’ she asked in her best let’s-get-on-with-things voice.
‘Filling the service elevator with gear as we speak,’ Zac said. ‘What’s next? Want those buckets of flowers moved somewhere?’
The band was on its way; the flowers were about to be fixed. Olivia shook her head in amazement. Two more ticks on her mental list of outstanding things to get finished. Things just happened around Zac. Somehow it had all got easier with him here. ‘We need two long tables up against that far wall for the auction. The hotel liaison officer went to find them an hour ago.’ She needed to display the gifts that’d been donated.
‘Not a problem.’ Did he have to sound so relaxed?
The clock was ticking. That long soak she’d planned on in the big tub in her room upstairs before putting on her new dress, also from the shop where she’d got her coat, might just be a possibility. ‘Easy for you to say,’ she snapped.
Zac took her arm and led her across to where the florist was already wiring irises into clever bunches that were going to look exquisite. ‘You explain where you want everything and try to relax. We’ll get this baby up and running on time. That’s a promise.’
‘I am relaxed.’
‘About as relaxed as a mouse facing down a cat. A big cat.’ He grinned and strolled away before she could come up with a suitable rejoinder.
Very unlike her. She always had an answer to smartass comments. Watching Zac’s casual saunter, she noted the way those wide shoulders filled his leather jacket to perfection. Her tongue moistened her lips. No wonder she wasn’t thinking clearly—the distractions were huge and all came in one package. Zachary Wright.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_a1e6b7b7-99c5-502f-8100-1be4eb766960)
AN HOUR LATER, Zac handed Olivia a champagne flute filled with bubbly heaven. ‘Here, get that into you. It might help you unwind.’
‘I can’t drink now. I’ve got to finish in here, then get myself ready.’ Her taste buds curled up in annoyance at being deprived of their favourite taste. But she had a big night ahead of her so having a drink before it had even begun was not a good idea.
With the proffered glass Zac nudged her hand—which seemed to have a life of its own as it reached towards him. ‘One small drink will relax you, Olivia.’ He wrapped her fingers around the cool stem. ‘Go on.’ There was a dare in his eyes as he raised his own glass to his lips.
Zac knew she never turned down a dare. But she’d have to. Tonight’s success rested on her being one hundred and ten per cent on her game. Her mother had taught her well—go easy on the alcohol or make a fool of herself. Not going to happen tonight when everyone’s eyes would be on her.
Zac’s throat worked as he tasted the champagne. Appreciation lit up his eyes. His tongue licked his bottom lip.
And Olivia melted; deep inside where she’d stored all her Zac memories there was a pool of hot, simmering need. The glass clinked against her teeth as the divine liquid spilled across her tongue. And while her shoulders lightened, tension of a different kind wound into a ball in her tummy and down to her core. ‘Delicious,’ she whispered. Zac or the wine?
He nodded. ‘Yes, Olivia, it is. Now, take that glass upstairs to your room and have a soak in the hot tub before getting all glammed up. I’ll see to anything else that needs to be done here before I go across to change.’
She went from relaxed to controlled in an instant. ‘No. Thank you. I need to check on those flowers and—’
‘All sorted.’ From the table he handed her an iris that been tidied and then tied with a light blue ribbon. ‘Take this up with you.’
Even as she hesitated, her hand was again accepting his gift. What was it with her limbs that they took no notice of her brain? ‘My favourite flower.’
‘That particular shade matches your eyes perfectly.’
‘Wedgwood. That’s the variety’s name.’ She stared at it, seeing things that had absolutely nothing to do with this weekend. Or Zac. All to do with her past.
When she made to hand it back he took her hand and held it between them, his fingers firm. His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. ‘Who does it remind you of?’ Very perceptive of him.
How had she walked away from this man? She must’ve been incredibly strong that day, or very stupid. ‘My father used to grow irises.’ Before he’d left because he’d been unable to cope with his wife’s drunken antics. And I could? I was only twelve, Dad.
Tugging free from Zac’s hand, she stepped back a pace. ‘Why are you helping me?’ He hadn’t decided to target her for sex, had he? Or was that her ego taking a hit? Zac never had trouble getting a woman; he didn’t need her. Even if what they’d had between them had been off the planet.
Zac’s eyes held something suspiciously like sympathy. She hated that. She didn’t need it, had finally learned how to deal with her mother by controlling her own emotions, not her mother’s antics. The same tactic kept men at a distance. Except for Zac, she’d managed very well. When she’d shocked herself one day by realising she cared about him more than she should she’d immediately called the whole thing off. No one would ever leave her again. No one could ever accuse her of being a slow learner.
‘I’m here because you needed help.’ Zac tapped the back of her hand to get her attention. ‘I’m alone, as in no partner, so doing stuff behind the scenes isn’t going to get anyone’s back up. I figured you’d be pleased, not trying to get rid of me.’
I’ve already done that once.
The words hung in the air between them, as though she’d said them out loud. She hadn’t, but her cheeks heated, as if she was blushing. Not something she was known for. ‘I’m sorry for being an ungrateful cow.’ She sipped from her glass while she gathered her scattered brain cells into one unit. ‘It’s great you’re here. I’d still be trying to persuade that florist into doing things my way if you hadn’t worked your magic on her.’ She’d felt a tad ill at the ease with which he’d managed to convince the florist that her way was right. ‘You also got that kid behind the bar to arrange the glasses in a much more spectacular pyramid than he’d intended.’
‘While you charmed the floor manager into putting a dog basket in the corner for the seeing eye dog. It’s against all the rules apparently.’ Zac’s smile was beautiful when he wasn’t trying to win a favour. Too damned gorgeous for his own good. And hers.
‘A blind person is allowed to take their dog anywhere.’
‘But not necessarily have a bed for the night in the banquet room.’ That smile just got bigger and better, and ripped through her like a storm unleashed.
She needed to get away before she did something as stupid as suggesting he give her a massage before she got dressed for the night. Zac’s hands used to be dynamite when he worked on her muscles. He’d done a massage course sometime during his surgical training and was more than happy to share his ability with anyone needing a muscle or two unknotted. He’d done a lot more than that with her at times, but tonight she’d settle for a regular massage to get the strain and ache out of her shoulders.
Another lie. She gulped her drink, but forgot to savour the taste as the bubbles crossed her tongue. Lying wasn’t something she normally did, not even to herself, as far as she knew.
‘Here.’ Zac held the champagne bottle in front of her, and leaned in to top up her glass. ‘Take that up to your room.’
‘You’re repeating yourself.’
‘Didn’t think you’d got the message the first time.’ Taking her elbow, he began marching her towards the elevators where he pressed the up button, and when the doors whooshed open he nudged her in. ‘See you at pre-dinner drinkies.’
‘I’ll be down well before six.’ As the doors closed quietly Oliva drew in his scent and along with it a whole heap more memories. The night ahead was stretching out ever further. She’d tried again to change the seating arrangement at the tables, but couldn’t without upsetting someone else. She sighed. Have to swallow that one and hope she’d be too busy to sit down.
Olivia tapped the toe of her boot until the elevator eased to a halt on her floor. Surprisingly she had nearly an hour to herself, thanks to Zac’s help. Plenty of time to wrestle into submission the strong emotions she’d never expected to feel for him again. Then she could carry on as planned: friendly yet aloof. So far her approach had been a big fail.
Inside her room she began shedding clothes as she headed for the bathroom and the tub she wanted full, steaming and bubbling.
After turning the taps on full, she poured in a hefty dose of bubble bath and shucked out of the rest of her clothes. Removing her make-up, she saw a goofy smile and happier eyes in the mirror than she’d seen in a very long time.
Hey, be careful.
Why was she excited? She didn’t want another affair with the man. It had been hard enough walking away from the first one; to do that again would kill her. Even though their affair had had little to do with anything other than sex, she’d stumbled through the following weeks trying to get back on track. It had her wondering for the millionth time how her father had walked out on her and her mother without a backward glance. He’d had more to lose, yet every communication from him—not many—had come through a lawyer. No birthday cards, Christmas phone calls. Nothing. Her dad had vanished from her life. And that was that.
Slipping into the warm water and feeling the bubbles tickle her chin eased every last knot of tension from her taut body. Sure, it’d make a comeback, but for the next twenty minutes she’d enjoy the lightness now in her muscles, her tummy, her everywhere. That might help with facing Zac tonight.
Olivia knew she had to be on her best form because their friends wouldn’t be able to refrain from watching her and Zac, looking for any hints of dissension or, worse, any sign they might be interested in each other again. Not a chance, folks.
Lying back, her eyes drifted shut and she watched the movie crossing her mind. Zac looking good enough to devour in one sitting. That well-honed body still moved like a panther’s, wary yet smooth, the same as the expression in his eyes. Unbelievable how much she’d missed that body. Missed everything about Zac. There’d been the odd occasion they’d shared a meal, because when anyone had had as much exercise as they’d had together they’d got hungry and what had gone best with after-match lethargy had been great food. Ordered in from some of Auckland’s best restaurants, of course. The only way to go.
What she’d never seen in his eyes before was that concern that had shown when he’d moved her towards the elevator. Concern for her well-being, and then there had been the flower, the champagne—which had shown he’d remembered she only drank wine, and then usually this nectar. Yes, she pampered herself, but there was no one else to. Except her mother, and she got her fair share of being looked after.
Was it possible Zac had missed her an incy-wincy bit? She’d never ask. That would be like setting a match to petrol. Anyway, he’d never admit it, even if it came close to being true.
Hah, like you’d admit it either.
Zac prowled the small crowd pouring into the banquet room, and for the tenth time glanced at his watch. Six o’clock had been and gone twenty minutes ago and there was no sign of Olivia. So unlike her. If anything, she’d have been back down here, ready to get things cranking up, almost an hour before it was supposed to start.
‘Hey, Zac, good to see you.’ Paul Entwhistle stepped in front of him. ‘How have you been?’
‘Paul.’ Zac shook his old mentor’s hand. ‘I’m doing fine. What about you? Still creating merry hell down there at Waikato?’ The older man had taken over as director of the orthopaedic unit two years ago, citing family reasons for leaving the successful private practice he’d set up here in Auckland.
Paul gave him an easy smile. ‘I’ve semiretired to spend more time with the family. What about you? I couldn’t believe it when I heard you and Olivia had parted. Thought you’d never be able to untangle yourselves long enough to go in different directions.’
Zac swallowed a flare of annoyance. This was only the first of what he had no doubt would be many digs tonight about his past with Olivia. ‘Aren’t we full of surprises, then?’ Instantly he wished his words back. Paul had been a friend to him as well as teaching him complex surgical procedures that he now used regularly. The man certainly didn’t deserve his temper. He tried again. ‘There was so much going on at the time something had to give.’
That was one way of looking at it. He knew from friends that Olivia ran with the crowd these days and never with another man. He didn’t get it. She’d been fun, and always hungry for a good time. But apparently not since them. Did that make him responsible for her change? Had he done something he was completely unaware of to cause her to dump him and become a solo act? He’d always been honest in that he’d had no intention of having anything more than a fling with her. She’d been of the same sentiment. Neither of them had been interested in commitment. Yet it still sucked big time that she’d pulled out. He hadn’t thought he could feel so vulnerable. Why would he? He’d spent his life guarding against that.
‘I get that, but never thought it would be your relationship that would stop.’ Paul unwittingly repeated Zac’s thoughts as he looked around the room. ‘Where is Olivia anyway?’
Twenty-five past six. ‘I have no idea. I’ll give her a call.’ Walking away to find somewhere quieter, he dialled her cell. Yes, he still had her numbers, just never used them. Deleting them should’ve been simple, but he hadn’t been able to, even when he’d been angry with her for walking away.
‘Hey, Zac, I fell asleep.’ So she still had him on caller ID. Interesting. ‘Is everything okay? I’ll be right down.’ Olivia sounded breathless.
He knew the breathless version, had heard it often as they’d made love. ‘Breathe deep and count to ten. Everything’s going according to your plan.’
‘Yes, but I need to be there, welcoming everyone. Oh, damn.’ He heard a clatter in the background. ‘Damn, damn, triple damn.’
‘Olivia, are you all right?’
‘I knocked my glass off the side of the tub. Now there are shards of glass all over the floor.’
‘Call Housekeeping.’
‘Haven’t got time. I’m meant to be down there before everyone arrives, not after, as though I don’t care.’ Panic mixed with anger reached his ear. ‘How could I be so stupid as to fall asleep in the tub?’
‘Listen to me.’ Zac stared up at the high ceiling, trying hard not to visualise that picture. Olivia in a hot tub with soapy bubbles framing her pert chin, covering her full breasts. Aw, shucks.
‘I worked every hour there was to get this gala happening and I’m tired, but I only had to hang on for a few more hours.’ She was on a roll, and Zac knew it would take a bomb to shut her up.
He delivered. ‘I’m coming up to help you get ready.’ Like Olivia would let him in. She hated being out of control over any damned thing and would be wound up tighter than a gnat’s backside.
‘You can’t come up here,’ she spluttered. ‘I’m not dressed.’
So his words had hit the bull’s-eye. She’d heard him. He found himself smiling, and not just externally. Warmth was expanding, turning him all gooey. Bonkers. This was all wrong.
Zac told her, ‘Take your time getting ready, then make a grand entrance. Everyone will be here and you can wow them as you walk to the podium to make the opening announcements.’
There was utter silence at the other end of the phone. No more spluttering. No glasses smashing on the tiled floor. Not even Olivia breathing. Then his smile spread into a grin. He could almost hear her mind working.
‘Love it,’ she said, and hung up on him.
Zac slid his phone back in the pocket of his evening suit trousers. He guessed he’d see her shortly. Heading back into the room, he hesitated as the elevator doors opened. Seeing the pale, thin man who stepped out, he crossed over to shake his hand. ‘Hey, Andy, great to see you.’ The guy looked dreadful. Leukaemia was making short work of his health.
‘Isn’t this something? I couldn’t believe it when Olivia told me how many people were coming and all the amazing things that have been donated for the auction.’ Andy wiped a hand down his face. ‘Enough to make a bloke cry.’
‘Can’t have that, man.’ Zac dredged up a grin for him, feeling a lump rising in his own throat. ‘You’ll have all the females copying you.’
Andy laughed, surprising Zac. ‘Damn right there. What sort of dinner party would that be? They’d be handing round tissues, not champagne.’
‘Guess you’re off the drink at the moment.’ Zac glanced behind, and saw Kitty and their three small boys waiting calmly. ‘Great to see you.’ He wrapped the woman in his arms and when he felt her shivering he knew it was from trepidation about tonight. ‘You’re doing fine,’ he said quietly, so only she heard.
Kitty nodded. ‘Thanks to CC. She’s arranged a table for us and the boys, a babysitter for when it’s time to send the little tykes to our suite, and basically anything we could possibly want.’
‘That’s our CC.’ Damn you, Olivia. A man could fall in love with you—if he hadn’t locked his heart in a cage. You’ve done the most amazing and generous thing, arranging this evening. ‘Come on, I’ll show you to your table.’ Andy looked ready to collapse and they hadn’t started.
It took time to move through the throng of people wishing the family all the best for the auction. Zac knew everyone meant well and most were shocked at Andy’s appearance, but he wanted to snarl at them to back off and give the man time to settle at his table. He held onto his sudden burst of temper, wondering where it had come from in the first place.
As he finally pulled out a chair for Kitty a collective gasp went up around the large room. Olivia had arrived. He hadn’t seen her but he knew. She had that effect on people, on him. Like lightning she zapped the atmosphere, flashed that dazzling smile left, right and centre. Everyone felt her pull; fell under her spell. Which was why they were here, and why many had willingly donated such spectacular gifts for the auction. She was the reason these same people would soon be putting their hands in their pockets and paying the earth for those things. Sure, this was all about Andy, a man everyone liked and respected, but it was Olivia who’d got them all together.
Looking towards the podium, Zac thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Never, ever, in those crazy weeks he and Olivia had been getting down and dirty had he seen her look like she did right this moment. If he had he’d have hauled her back to his bedroom that last night and tied her to the bed so she couldn’t dump him. He’d have taken a punt on her not breaking his heart even when it was obvious she would’ve. Stunning didn’t begin to describe her. And that dress? Had to be illegal. Didn’t it? She shouldn’t be allowed to wear it in public. It appeared painted on, except for where the soft, weightless fabric floated across her thighs. Everywhere her body was highlighted with the gold material shimmering over her luscious curves.
And he’d thought he could handle this evening, being around Olivia. He hadn’t a hope in Hades. Not a one.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_3a99604c-ea52-5a58-a8a4-bce7a5aa07ff)
‘WELCOME, EVERYONE, TO what is going to be a wonderful night.’ Olivia stood behind the podium, the mic in her hand, and let some of the tension slide across her lips on a low breath. She’d done it. Andy and his family were here, the colleagues who’d said they’d come were here, and the noise level already spoke of people having fun. Phew.
Zac’s here. So? She knew that already.
Olivia could see him standing by Andy, staring over at her, his mouth hanging a little loosely. He looked stunned. What had put that expression on his face? Not her, surely? She stepped out from behind the podium, shifted her hips so that her dress shimmied over her thighs, and watched Zac. Forget stunned. Try knocked out. She bet a whole team of cheerleaders could be leaping up and down naked in front of him right now and he wouldn’t notice. His gaze was intense and totally fixed on her. Or, rather, on her thighs.
Despite being like nothing else she’d worn since she’d been a teen, she’d loved this dress from the moment she’d seen it; now she thought it was the best outfit ever created. That sex thing she and Zac had once had going? It was still there, alive and well, already fired up and ready to burn.
Then the silence reached her and she stared around at the gathering of friends and colleagues, the reason she was standing up here finally returning to her bemused brain. She was supposed to be wowing them, not getting slam-dunked by Zac’s comatose expression. Slapping her forehead in front of everyone wasn’t a good idea, but she did it anyway. ‘Sorry, everyone, I forgot where I was for a moment. Thought I was back at med school and about to give you all a demo on how to drink beer while standing on my head.’ Like she’d ever done anything close.
But it got her a laugh and she could relax. As long as she didn’t look in Zac’s direction she should be able to continue with her brief outline of how the evening would unfold.
‘I hope you’ve all got your bank managers’ phone numbers handy because we are going to have the auction of all auctions. It will be loads of fun, but just to get you loosened up there are limitless numbers of champagne flutes filled with the best drop of nectar doing the rounds of the room. Stop any of those handsome young men carrying trays and help yourself.’
She paused, and immediately her eyes sought Zac. He hadn’t moved, still stood watching her, but at least he’d stopped looking like a possum caught in headlights. His eyes were hooded now, hiding whatever had been eating him, and that delicious mouth had tightened a little. Then he winked, slowly with a nod at the room in general.
She got the message. Get on with it. Everyone’s waiting for you.
Again she looked around the room filled with people she knew, admired and in a lot of cases really liked. ‘Just to keep us all well behaved and lasting the distance, there will be platters of canapés arriving over the next hour. We will have the auction before dinner so take a look at all the wonderful gifts set out on the tables over by the entrance. Most importantly, enjoy yourselves, but not until I’ve kept hotel management happy by telling you what to do in case of fire, earthquake, or the need to use a bathroom.’
After giving those details, she wrapped up. ‘Let’s have a darned good time. If there’s anything that you feel you’re missing out on talk to …’ she looked around the room and of course her gaze fell on Zac ‘… Zachary Wright. He’s volunteered to help with any problems and we’d hate to see him sitting around with nothing to do, wouldn’t we?’ She grinned over at the man who’d got her stomach in a riot. Not only her stomach, she conceded, while trying to ignore the smug smile coming back at her. Not easy to do when her heart rate was erratic. The noise levels were rising fast as she stepped away from the podium to go in search of a distraction that didn’t begin with a Z.
Paul Entwhistle stepped in front of her. ‘Olivia, you’re a marvel, girl. There’s as many people here as you’d find at Eden Park watching an international rugby match.’ He wrapped her into a bear hug. ‘Well done.’
‘Still prone to exaggerating, I see.’ She laughed as she extricated herself. ‘Are you going to be bidding at the auction? There are some wonderful prizes—if I can call them that.’
‘I’ve got my eye on one or two.’ There was a cunning glint in Paul’s eyes.
‘What?’
Paul went with a complete change of subject. ‘I see you still like to give Zac a bit of stick. It saddened me when you two broke up. Thought you had what it took.’
Her stomach sucked in against her backbone. Not in this lifetime, we don’t. But even as she thought it her eyes were tracking the crowd for a dark head. Not hard to find when Zac towered above most people, even the tall ones. He was heading in her direction, an amused tilt to his mouth. ‘I beg to differ,’ she told Paul. ‘Neither of us are the settling-down type.’ If only that weren’t true. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me …’
‘I think you’re wrong.’ Paul glanced in the direction she’d seen Zac. The cunning expression had changed to something more whimsical, which didn’t make her feel any more comfortable.
‘I need to circulate.’ Before Zac reaches us. ‘I’m sure Zac will be happy to chat with you.’
‘Thanks a bundle, Olivia,’ Zac breathed into her ear.
Too late. She plastered on a smile and faced him, wondering why just talking to him got her all in a twist. ‘Thought you’d be pleased. You’re flying solo, remember?’
He actually laughed. ‘Touché.’
Paul was watching them with interest. She really needed to stop this; whatever the man was thinking didn’t have a part in the evening’s plans.

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